Chapter 29 #2
Milow pulled her hand from mine and stood up. Fresh tears streamed down her cheeks, her body visibly shaking. She didn’t want to sit here anymore. I could feel it.
[I’d like to be alone,] she signed.
“Are you sure, sweetheart?” Dad asked. He’d finally managed to calm himself, though his voice was still rough.
Milow nodded.
“What about dinner?” Mom asked, forcing a smile.
[I’m not very hungry right now.]
With that, she turned and headed upstairs.
I stayed where I was, frozen in place.
I didn’t know how I was supposed to keep living like normal after what I now knew. All I knew was that I needed to stay strong. For Milow. And for myself.
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I only ate because I was hungry after this afternoon's swim practice. Even then, I barely managed it. I ate just enough to keep myself upright, because I knew if I forced more down, I’d get sick.
My stomach was already twisted. I couldn’t stand the thought of Milow sitting alone in her room.
She had asked for space, and I wanted to respect that.
Still, every part of me wanted to hold her.
To make sure she wasn’t alone with this.
After dinner, Mom set a plate of food aside for Milow. She and Dad talked in low voices, their words muffled but heavy with the pain they had been carrying for years. Wesley and I headed upstairs to his room, and the second the door closed behind us, I broke.
I didn’t just cry. I fell apart.
The sobs tore out of me uncontrollably. I’d held everything in for too long, and once it started, I couldn’t stop.
Wesley wrapped his arms around me and rubbed my back.
I cried harder than I ever had in my life.
I couldn’t remember a time I’d cried like this.
Not since before Mom and Dad adopted us. Not since before I ever felt safe.
“She’s strong,” Wesley murmured into the side of my neck. “She’s getting through this. And we’ll be there for her. Just like we always have been.”
I nodded against his shoulder, not trusting myself to speak. I wasn’t ready to let go yet. We stood there in the middle of his room for a long time before I finally pulled back. I wiped my face with the backs of my hands.
“I just can’t imagine what she had to go through living with that monster,” I said hoarsely. “What if he—” I stopped myself. I couldn’t finish the thought. But the question that had been circling my mind wouldn’t leave. “Why would someone do something so gruesome to a child?”
Wesley ran a hand through his bright blond hair, then nodded toward the bed. We sat down side by side.
“He had a reason,” he said quietly. “A sick and twisted one.”
He knew more. I could hear it in his voice. And even though part of me wanted to stay ignorant, I needed to know.
My jaw tightened. “What did he do to her?”
Wesley leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and rubbing his hands together. He had the same mannerisms as Dad. Always had. I’d joked about it before, that Wesley had to be his biological son. They were too alike.
I braced myself when Wesley started talking again.
“Milow was six when she found her father dead in his bed,” Wesley said. “She’d been waiting for him to wake up. He never came downstairs. So she went to his room and found him there. Dad said he had a heart attack.”
My jaw was locked, and I stayed silent. I needed to hear it all. Every single detail.
“That night,” Wes continued, “Milow stepped outside the house for the first time in her life. Her father never let her out. Never took her anywhere. He never planned to. It’s not clear if she understood that he was dead, but she went outside anyway, looking for help.
She was wearing only her pajamas, and her father’s boots and gloves.
There was a lot of snow that night. She didn’t know where she was going, but she walked until she reached the fire station. That’s where Dad found her.”
I stared at him. “What do you mean, Dad found her?”
Wesley held my gaze. “Milow’s old house and the fire station are on the main road here in Bowen.
Her house was at one end, and the fire station was on the other.
She walked that entire stretch by herself in the dark.
Dad was working that night. He took her in and called the police and child services. ”
It didn’t sound real. It sounded like a nightmare someone made up to scare people. And then, realization hit me hard. Milow was only six years old when she found her father dead. She walked outside for the first time in her life. Alone. In the snow. Unable to speak and looking for help.
I couldn’t make up my mind accept it. I kept going over it again and again, but it never settled.
It had to be a miracle. Or pure luck. Either way, she had made it to safety.
But what hurt the most was knowing how close she had been the whole time, and no one ever knew. While she was trapped in that house with that monster, we were only a few streets away, living our lives, safe and unaware of the cruelty that was going on in that house.
“How did she—” My voice cracked. “How did Dad figure out what was wrong?”
“He didn’t, really. The police later did. Dad asked her questions, but she stayed silent,” Wes said. “Apparently, after her father removed her vocal cords, he never taught her how to sign. Maybe one or two signs. But not enough to actually communicate.”
Rage surged through me in violent waves. I wanted to punch the wall and scream at the top of my lungs. But I stayed still.
Then I realized he still hadn’t answered my question.
“Why did he remove her vocal cords?”
Wesley let out a heavy sigh. He’d been avoiding this part.
“Her father abused her, Ashby,” he said. “And because no one knew she existed—and because he didn’t want anyone to find out what he was doing in that house—he silenced her.”
That was it.
My stomach twisted violently, and before I could react, I doubled over and threw up right there on Wesley’s bedroom floor.
“Shit,” he murmured, immediately rubbing my back. “It’s okay, champ.”
But nothing was okay.
Milow had lived through hell.
Her voice was taken from her.
And with it, the innocence no child should ever lose got ripped away before she even had the chance to understand what was happening to her.
And her father? He got the easy way out.
“You feeling better?” Wesley asked as he handed me a glass of water.
He’d made me lie down on his bed after I threw up, even though I’d tried to argue and help him clean the floor myself. He hadn’t let me. He’d told me to stay put. That’s the way he always got when he knew I needed someone else to take control for a minute.
I hadn’t expected my body to react like that. I’d never thrown up from shock or emotion before. But hearing what Milow had been through had caused this violent and uncontrollable reaction. My body hadn’t been able to process it, and so it rejected that information.
“Yeah. Thanks,” I said. I took a few sips of the water, forcing myself to keep it down, then set the glass on the bedside table.
I leaned back against the pillows with a quiet sigh, staring at the wall while more tears rolled down my cheeks.
“She’s kept all of that to herself this whole time. She never told me.”
I didn’t think I was owed the truth. I knew this was her story and her pain. But it still hurt. I wished I had known sooner. I wished I could have been there for her. Maybe if I’d known, I could have held her tighter.
“And she’s still here,” Wesley said gently, his pale eyes watching me closely.
“She’s living. She’s strong. Milow went through something no child should ever have to survive, and, still, she’s brave and has the kindest heart.
It’s not normal to have gone through something so heavy and end up a good person. ”
I looked at him as his expression softened further. He reached out and pressed his hand flat against my chest, right over my heart. “Just like you,” he said quietly. “You’ve been through a lot of cruelty, too. And you turned out to be an incredible person.”
I didn’t want to think about my life before Mom and Dad adopted me. I rarely did anymore. It stayed buried because the life I had now was safe and full of people who loved me. Thinking about the past always felt like opening a door I’d worked hard to keep closed.
I lowered my gaze and placed my hand over his, squeezing it gently.
We sat in silence for a moment. Then another question pushed its way into my mind. “What about her mother?” I asked quietly. “Was she not around when all of that happened?”
Wesley pressed his lips together and shrugged. “Mom and Dad asked the police about Milow’s mother. They tried to find her. But there was nothing. No records, no contact information. She probably left not long after Milow was born.”
That didn’t make any part of the story easier. If anything, it made it worse. More anger settled inside me. I tried not to let it take over, because the more I let myself feel the bitterness and anger, the more my stomach threatened to revolt again.
“Okay,” I said quietly, lifting my eyes back to Wesley. “Thank you for telling me, Wes.”
“Yeah,” he replied with a smile. He dropped his hand and patted my thigh before standing up. He crossed the room and opened the window, letting the cold air push out the sour smell still clinging to the floor. “You want to watch a movie? Just something dumb. Take your mind off it for a bit.”
I shook my head. “I think I’m just going to go to bed.”
“All right.” He watched me carefully as I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed. “You need anything, you come get me.”
“Thanks.” I glanced at the floor and pressed my lips together. “And… sorry about the puking.”
He waved it off without hesitation. “Don’t worry about it.”
I gave him a tight smile and left his room, heading upstairs. I needed to brush my teeth and get that foul taste out of my mouth.